


The Holy Grail

by GaiaSantiago



Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Light Angst, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaiaSantiago/pseuds/GaiaSantiago
Summary: The problem with Christianity is that it clutches in the hollow of the mind, cutting and bloating, coagulating with the blood, spreading guilty all over her head until she feels like blowing, her thoughts and muscle and tissues flying all over the walls of her bedroom.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Kudos: 13





	The Holy Grail

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it <3 kudos and comments are always welcome!

When Quinn hears a lonely high pitch that scratches Rachel’s throat and feels the spasm of her stomach muscles beneath her hand, she closes her eyes and confesses. Not because she thinks this is a sin, she is beyond this shallowness that the holy church screams. Despite that, she knows she deserves to be forgiven for all this stupid teenage things she did. Therefore, she forgives herself. Right now, she licks into Rachel, tasting this sweetness such as a banquet, the dryness scratching at her tongue, she keeps licking, and licking and this is the closets to tasting the red wine that God’s pours into us that form his own blood. It is an invitation to abdicate, renounce the sins of the flesh, a warning so vivid with the vision of thighs spasming around her head, forming her saint halo. Quinn grabs Rachel’s right thigh with her hand before she kicks her without seeing, the short nails biting into the sun kissed skin marking her delicately with rose’s thorns. She licks and eats, accepting death, accepting the forgiveness and surrender that Rachel gives her in her moans so airy and womanly and Quinn is breaking. Maybe in the end she is a little psycho for thinking about sex like that, that Rachel is her wafer but she does not care anymore. She keeps licking with the end of her tongue Rachel’s clit, the rosy flesh almost red, hardening beneath her tongue, and she loves to feel this, when Rachel is so close her clit keeps growing in her mouth.

The problem with Christianity is that it clutches in the hollow of the mind, cutting and bloating, coagulating with the blood, spreading guilty all over her head until she feels like blowing, her thoughts and muscle and tissues flying all over the walls of her bedroom. Well, if she cannot fight it, she is going to make Rachel her redemption. She knows she deserves it because it was written in the Bible her mom bought at her eight years old anniversary, Quinn’s blond hair shining under the bedside lamp, falling in her wide eyes. While she was young, it was a book of terrified stories filled with punishments. Now she was rewriting in her bedroom’s wall the new words with Rachel’s moans.

She survived. She survived the expulsion from paradise with the putrid taste of a rotten apple in her mouth. The flood of Noah, water splashing against her insides, drowning without hope of survive an inscrutable God while watching her family be pulled apart. Sacrificed her own flesh instead of her descendant like Abraham, crying while trying not to look into her eyes, praying for that to be the right thing, praying to keep having faith while she torn apart in the high mountain. She felt the rocks throw at her sticking into her skin, blowing bruises the size of her heartbreak. In the end, there was still a crash, her hands trying to grab the ends of the cross while rusty nails spiked her skin into her sins. She descendent from heaven, felled in the atmosphere and right now, between Rachel’s legs, she felt holy. As if this was her last home, welcoming the embrace of what is the final answer, the clouds in the sky making her own body hypersensitive with electricity, eyes stinging. In the meantime, she does not know if it is spit or tears staining her cheek. With a Rachel’s groan, her body is shot so high in the atmosphere she can feel the pressure of space around her body, her ears flooding with white noise, the vacuum of universe accepting her atoms as Rachel orgasm, the shaking body feeling like it’s her own, so she opens her eyes and watch it.

Rachel’s stomach is in her eye level trembling so hard that she can feel every curve of her muscles, the softness around them stretching while they expand and counter. Her breasts fall a little over each side, soft nipples pointing at different ends. Quinn grabs them with her hands, feeling the nipples hard almost like the clit in her mouth, caressing them with light touches. Rachel moans dragging as a cry that she loves listening, the sound so addictive, voice soft and still strong. Quinn knows that the brunet is a walking contradiction. She forgives because Rachel is larger than life, because everything fits inside her and Quinn fits there too, mouth leaving wet traces until her tongue is inside, tasting the wet release. She forgives because she was given the grace to do so, a saint made not by the church but by the pain of never experience compassion.

_“Come here, baby”_

Rachel’s hands grabs her, pulling her up. Quinn looks at her sparking brow eyes, her nose a little twisted to the right with her one side smile. Rachel is so powerful, carries her to heaven and earth so peacefully that she cannot think, the love extending her insides, her heart and soul. Quinn feel like she could stop the time, saving this moment in all her senses – so she does, hands going down again, her mouth starting another prayer.


End file.
